Meditation on inevitable death should be performed daily. Every day when one's body and mind are at peace, one should meditate upon being ripped apart by arrows, rifles, spears and swords, being carried away by surging waves, being thrown into the midst of a great fire, being struck by lightning, being shaken to death by a great earthquake, falling from thousand-foot cliffs, dying of disease or committing seppuku at the death of one's master. And every day without fail one should consider himself as dead.
-- Yamamoto Tsunetomo, Hagakure

Chapter Four: Allegory of the Cave

"Stop it! Let go!" Ovelia struggled to pull Merambors away from the knight at her side, but the man had gripped her reins; it wasn't going to work.

"We're not going to kill you," growled the knight, tugging her snapping bird back towards the others with obvious difficulty. "Just shut up already."

"No! Let go!" The others were already down, she saw; Lavian, the last on her feet, was just now toppling limply to the ground. She was covered in blood. All of them were, even Mustadio. No! Not again! "Let go of me!"

Another man appeared from somewhere, wearing much better armor. "Giving you trouble, eh?"

The other knight grunted. "Only a little, Captain."

The captain sighed. "Just shut your trap, Highness. You're going to be fine."

"No! Let go of me! Agrias!" She bared her teeth, tugging at the reins.

"Suit yourself." As he spoke, the captain drove a mailed fist into her middle.

Ovelia slumped bonelessly forward in the saddle, coughing. Rain pattered against her cheek as she gasped for breath. The way her head happened to be lying, she was staring straight at the bloodied mess of Agrias' still form.

She swallowed with effort. Though she couldn't speak, could barely breathe, she could still cast one of the simple spells she knew. A moment of foggy concentration; a wave of a finger. Something sparkled around the Holy Knight, which the Nanten didn't notice with their backs to the fallen as they were.

Before she could recover, Merambors bolted into motion along with the other knights. They were taking her to... where? Why? She couldn't think straight, couldn't reason.

Another bout of ragged coughing seized her. Squeezing her eyes shut, she clutched at her stomach and pressed her forehead against her mount's golden feathers, and waited to see what grim fate would befall her.

Agrias awoke with a gasp. Her face was in the mud, and a splitting headache pulsed through her skull with every heartbeat. Groaning, she planted hands on the ground and pushed herself up to a seated position. Steady rain murmured into the surrounding grass, trickled down the back of her neck.

She was still on the hill, she saw. The Nanten were just now disappearing around a curve of a nearby hill towards the castle. With Ovelia.

Shaking her head, she took quick stock of her surroundings. Everyone was down, of course, but at least nobody had crystalized. Who'd fallen first? It was... Alicia.

Ignoring the pain lancing through every limb, she climbed to her feet, then hurried to the redhead's body. A few murmured words of prayer, and then a ghostly white orb floated down from the heavens and into Alicia.

The girl thrashed about, then froze, blinking. Agrias left without a word of explanation, scrambling instead to where Lavian lay in a pool of blood. Another spell served to tug her away from the waiting jaws of death.

Face tight in fear, she darted to Mustadio and started a third spell... but then stopped. She couldn't do it. Too many already today; she was drained, unable to concentrate. Her eyes widened in helpless horror as she gazed down at the young man choking on his own blood.

Mustadio stared wildly back up, barely alive, probably not seeing her at all. One hand fumbled under his coat, then shortly came out with a glittering yellow stone. "T... Taurus," he whispered.

Agrias clutched the stone with one hand, then gripped his shoulder with the other. "Mustadio, hold on. I know I've got a phoenix down somewhere. I...." Swallowing, she released him to grab at the pouch at her waist. She knew she had nothing of the sort -- she never carried a chemist's scrip -- but maybe somehow one had gotten in there. Maybe one of the--

"Taurus," repeated the mechanic; blood bubbled between his lips and he coughed, eyes squeezed shut, unable to rise from the ground. One hand gripped her own, pushing the stone into her palm, closing her fingers over it. "St... keep... father...."

Forgetting her belt pouch, she gripped his shoulder once more. "Mustadio, hang on! We'll... Alicia! Lavian! Phoenix down, now!"

"Ovelia had them," answered Lavian; her voice was raspy, quiet. "On the chocobo." Her face was blank; beside her, Alicia stared bleakly at the ground.

Agrias stared at her subordinate for a moment, then returned her helpless attention to Mustadio. He stared up, meeting her gaze; fear was written clearly in his dark eyes. He didn't want to die.

His lips moved once more but without sound, the words audible only in his dying mind. Then his face went slack; his hand dropped to the ground.

Agrias, paralyzed, continued to stare into his unmoving eyes, continued to grip his shoulder. Rain whispered into the grass, trickled across her skin like an icy caress.

Soon Mustadio vanished into a cold anonymous crystal rotating slowly on the ground. Lips parting, Agrias regarded it for a numb moment, then stared down at the golden gem glittering in her hand.

"They must have fought here," decided Vector, squatting on his heels in the long grass, frowning at the ground. "There's blood all over and I can see chocobo tracks everywhere. More than just Merambors would make."

Ramza frowned at the ground as well. He had little skill in tracking but that much was clear even to him. "Can you tell which way they went?"

Vector's face screwed up in thought and he sucked air through his teeth. "Looks like...." Chewing a lip, he glanced to one side, then stood and fluffed a few paces through the wet grass, never taking his eyes off the ground. "Looks like... the people on foot headed north, over here. The riders went back that way, kind of towards the castle."

"Towards the castle," repeated Ramza, turning in place to stare back through the hills. Falling rain hazed the more distant slopes into a formless pallor.

Jasmine shifted beside him. "The Princess and the others must have gone off on foot. We only had the one choco."

He gave her a flat stare, and after a moment she smiled and glanced away.

Before he could speak, however, Vector cleared his throat. "There, uh, are no chocobo tracks with the group that left on foot. And it's tough to say, but I think there were only three sets of tracks."

"So two people died," concluded Ramza, shifting his gaze to the blood on the ground. "Or got captured." Ovelia. They took Ovelia.

A brief silence met this statement. Eventually Knox turned to peer northward through the rain. "The survivors left on foot this way?"

"Yeah."

Almost before he was done speaking, Knox was moving, striding grimly along the hillside, following the tracks. Ramza was there as well, and after a moment the other two caught up.

The trail wound between hills rather than over them; the others must have been trying to avoid notice. Vector stopped on occasion to ensure he hadn't lost the trail. When that happened, Ramza waited patiently. The rain continued, and nobody spoke.

Perhaps an hour later they found Agrias, Lavian and Alicia huddled under the branches of a lone cedar tree, covered in blood. Jasmine gasped at the sight, then hurried forward, awkwardly unslinging the scrip from her shoulder as she ran. Shortly an armful of potions found their way to everyone who needed them.

Once the knights were back to health, Ramza fixed Agrias with a stare. "What happened?"

She met his gaze without blinking. "Nanten attacked, led by another Holy Knight. They killed Mustadio and took Ovelia."

Jasmine gasped again; Vector sighed sadly while Knox merely shook his head. Ramza just stared back at Agrias before nodding. "They took her to the castle, then?"

"Probably. We didn't track them." Agrias sighed, slumping; suddenly she looked weary, defeated. Blue eyes stared grimly at the distant grass. "We screwed up. I screwed up. I should have had us stay somewhere higher where we could see people coming. I... was hoping to stay hidden, but this... I wasn't thinking straight, I guess."

Ramza frowned. "How many were there?"

"Nanten? Six."

"On chocobo."

"Yeah."

"Then it wouldn't have mattered," he decided, wiping rainwater from his face. "They'd have caught you anyway."

"I suppose." Her voice was little more than a whisper; golden hair lay slicked against her bloody angel-face. She still wouldn't meet his gaze.

Ramza felt his jaw tighten. "Pull yourself together. Did you know the other Holy Knight? The one attacking you?"

She blinked, then directed a hard stare at him, sapphire eyes cold and sharp. Silence stretched for a moment before she spoke. "No." Her tone was measured, her temper obviously under very tenuous control. "The Nanten are totally separate from St. Konoe. He looked young, though. Maybe your age."

He twisted his lips, glancing briefly at the other two knights, who simply scowled back at him; they were probably upset at his rudeness to their commander. "Mustadio, then. What happened?"

Agrias gave her head a slow shake, but her eyes still bored into his own. "They took us all down, actually, but I woke up shortly after. I think Ovelia did something to help me. I could save Lavian and Alicia but not him. I was right next to him when he died. Touching him."

Ramza nodded. "What of his father?"

"I don't know." The Holy Knight's brow furrowed for a moment and she reached into her coat, shortly coming out with a yellow crystal he'd seen only once before. "He said something about his father, then gave this to me, right before he died."

Someone's holding him hostage. Using him to control someone else's behavior. Just like.... Exhaling slowly, Ramza forced his fists to relax. For now. "Then... we'll get Ovelia back, get answers from Cardinal Draclau, and then get Mustadio's father back."

A brief silence met this. Eventually Agrias shifted, frowning. "I'm... not even sure where to start with that," she murmured, brushing hair back from her face. "What do you mean, get answers from the Cardinal?"

Oh. Right. "Gafgarion was waiting for us just inside the castle gates. He'd set up an ambush... and it was obviously sanctioned by someone inside, because he was there in place of the gate guards. So given that, and given that the other Holy Knight probably took the Princess into the castle as well, you have Draclau working with both the Hokuten and Nanten. What's he doing? It seems shady."

Agrias offered a slow nod. "That's... true," she acknowledged. "But what about Mustadio's father? Why would we do anything about that? It's not St. Konoe's job to rescue everyone."

He gave her a cold stare, hoping his disgust didn't show too much on his face. "Then I'll do it. If you don't want to help, you don't have to."

She just stared back at him without expression, eyes gemlike and glittering. After a moment, Lavian stepped forward, smiling nervously. "Let's just... do one thing at a time, shall we? We don't even know that Ovelia's been taken into Lionel."

Agrias exhaled briskly, giving herself a little shake. "True. Is everyone healthy enough to travel quickly?"

Several heads glanced about in question but no one spoke. Agrias nodded. "Okay. Let's head back to where we fought, and pick up the trail there."

For the next hour they backtracked to the site of the battle, and from there Vector led the winding way towards Lionel Castle. Conversation proved sparse and the rain continued, growing neither heavier nor lighter. Not a single other person was in evidence anywhere among the green and rolling hills.

When late afternoon rolled around, Ramza found himself standing a quarter-mile from the castle's small eastern gate. Just before the squarish opening in the walls, the grass had been trampled by generations of feet and claws into a makeshift dirt path, punctuated here and there by persistent weeds, though today the rain had turned the dirt to mud. Above, a pair of red-cloaked guards watched them without obvious concern.

"That's where they went," sighed Vector, slicking hair back from his face. "Probably... I don't know. Not too long ago."

Agrias frowned, then turned towards Ramza. "You want to go in now? Or at all?"

He blinked. She's asking me? "Tomorrow," he decided. "If they meant to kill Ovelia they'd have done so back on the hill, so she's probably still alive. We'll all be a little more useful in there if we've slept some, maybe cleaned up a bit." Certainly requesting an audience with the Cardinal while splattered in blood would raise some eyebrows.

"Useful," repeated Agrias after a moment, fingering the hilt of her blade. "You're thinking we'll have to fight in there."

"I would imagine so." If Draclau was sheltering both the squad that had attacked him and those who'd attacked Agrias, then trusting the man's goodwill would be an exercise in madness.

The Holy Knight swayed in a silent chuckle. "Think they'll even let us in?"

"Yeah." Draclau would probably be too polite to refuse them entry outright.

"Alright." Agrias pressed one fist into the opposite palm, cracking knuckles, then reversed the gesture. "Let's get some rest before we storm this place, huh?"

After cleaning up and tending to his equipment and injuries, Delita strode through Lionel Castle towards a place underneath it. The Nanten cape clasped around his neck flared behind his ankles with every step, snowy and white even after weeks of travel and a few battles. As he walked, servants and even a few soldiers pressed themselves against the hard stone walls to give him room to pass. This sort of respect was a new thing to him, but neither unwelcome nor unexpected. He ignored those he passed in any case.

A narrow spiraling stair led him down, underground. Shadows danced on the walls with his motion, inky silhouettes cast from a handful of flickering lanterns, and his footsteps rang hollowly in the tight space.

Once to the level of the dungeons he angled off, onto a broad landing of dark stone, where a single guard nodded at him. Delita nodded in return, then strode right past the man, down a hallway towards where his captive awaited. The door to the cell stood as thick as a wall, oak banded with age-tarnished steel. It could contain an angry bear without trouble, let alone a caged bird.

Pausing to fit the key -- he'd made sure to "acquire" one -- into the lock, he twisted, then heaved the door open. The hinges creaked only faintly at his entry; apparently the Church kept its detention cells well-maintained. The thought brought a small smile to his face.

Ovelia Atkascha glanced up at his entry, face weary, brown eyes empty and resigned. Some flicker of recognition crossed her features, but it quickly disappeared as she lowered her gaze back to the floor. "You."

"Yes. Me." Heeling the door shut behind him, he stepped to meet her, stopping just outside of her reach. The light from the single lantern Draclau had provided for her painted a monstrous shadow of his form on the side wall.

The princess stirred without looking up. "You punched me. You killed my friends." Her voice was a mere whisper, nearly inaudible.

He chuckled. "Hardly. I would imagine they're still alive. Did you think I wasn't aware of that little spell you fired off?"

She froze, then lifted her head. Wide honey-colored eyes, now haunted, afraid, met his gaze.

"The report said you were a little dim," he continued, tugging gloves off and tucking them under his belt, "but it seems it was mistaken. You do have a clever streak in you. I applaud both your concern and your inventiveness."

Ovelia sighed, letting her eyes slide back shut, then sagged again. Heavy iron chains clinked together with the motion. "What do you want?"

"I came to see how you were." He spread his hands, a gesture she would interpret as sincerity. "Are you well? Any injuries from your abduction? If so I will have a chemist sent to tend to you."

Her lips curled. "I'm fine... except where you hit me."

He shrugged. She'd get over it. "You haven't eaten, though, I see." The plate of food Draclau's people had given her sat untouched in the corner, a chunk of bread, some ham, an apple. "That won't keep for long."

She shook her head but didn't answer. Long blond hair swayed with the gesture, whispering on the edge of hearing.

"Oh, come now. What is this? You struggled to avoid being captured, but now you won't eat? Do you think we'll let you starve yourself to death?"

"I'm not hungry."

Delita paused, studying the girl. Hair the color of spun gold; a slender, almost petite frame her layers of red-and-white clothing didn't totally obscure. She still wasn't meeting his gaze. Is she really this mild? I thought they were exaggerating. Perhaps a different approach would be in order.

Before he could find one, however, she lifted her head to stare, if not at his eyes, at least at his chin. "What do you want with me?"

"I want for you what you should want for you." He crossed arms over his chest. "You should be where you belong, where you were born to be. Not rotting in a cell. Don't you think?"

"Somewhere I belong," she whispered. Soft brown eyes slid up to meet his own. "You want to use me, don't you? You can't make me go along with it."

He shrugged again. "Yes I can, if you want to live." God. Teta would kill me if she knew I was threatening a girl like this. His lips thinned, but there was no taking the words back.

Ovelia stiffened. "What is that supposed to mean?"

He tilted his head in consideration before answering. "It means...."

The door hinges protested behind him again, and he trailed off, turning around. Cardinal Draclau and Vormav Tingel strode into the cell, not even bothering to close the door afterwards. Delita eyed the pair, then edged aside to give them room in front of the princess.

The two men shuffled to a halt in front of the chained girl. Draclau, of course, looked bland and subdued as ever, though Vormav's lips were pursed in thought. "So," nodded the Shrine Knight after a moment. "This is Ovelia?"

Draclau grunted in agreement. "How are you, Princess? I trust the chill here isn't getting to you?"

Ovelia didn't answer. Wary brown eyes flickered from one face to another, waiting.

"Hmm." Vormav's glittering dark eyes examined the girl as another man might a horse. "She's almost too good a substitute for a princess."

Ovelia blinked, then froze, eyes wide and focused on the Shrine Knight.

Draclau shook with a low chuckle. "Vormav, she doesn't know yet." His voice, a quiet rumble, was nevertheless as cultured as it was soft.

"Ah," breathed Vormav. "Poor girl."

Finally Ovelia managed to recover herself. "What... what are you talking about?"

Vormav shook his head. "Listen. You're not Ovelia."

The girl jerked back in surprise. "What...?"

"The real princess died long ago," continued the knight, idly resting folded hands atop the handle of his blade. "You're a substitute."

Ovelia stared at him for a moment before her face contorted into a black scowl. "No! That's a lie!"

"It's not a lie," countered Vormav evenly. "You're not Ovelia. The old Senators who didn't care much for Ruvelia made you, so someday you'd succeed her. A convenient 'illness' disposed of the two older princes, and then you were adopted as the Princess; Omdolia was too weak to sire another child, you see, so you would take the throne. But then Orinas came along anyway. Even now it's impossible to say whether he's really Omdolia's son, as Larg may have had 'seeds' planted to make his sister the next King's mother. But anyway, the Senators' plan fell apart and you are the debris."

Ovelia's lips peeled back from her teeth. "You're lying! I don't believe you!"

Vormav shrugged, unconcerned. "Whether you believe or not, or whether you're really Ovelia or not, hardly matters. What does matter is that everyone believes you are Ovelia."

The girl simply stared at him for a moment, brow furrowed in an accusatory glare. Eventually she swallowed; lines of tension stood out on her jaw from the effort of clenching her teeth. "What do you want with me?"

Vormav lifted dark eyebrows. "Nothing. Just be a princess, as you are now."

Ovelia flinched at the word princess and hissed, teeth bared. "My ancestors were Atkaschas! No one can control me!"

"What would you even do, away from us?" wondered Vormav blandly. "If you went to Larg, he'd kill you, right? He already tried, with Gafgarion. All we want is to help you take the throne."

The girl slumped, rubbing a shaking hand down her face. "Who... who are you, anyway?"

Lamplight flickering on the hard lines of Vormav's face revealed nothing. "We're neither allies of Larg nor supporters of Goltana. Just... collaborators."

Draclau shifted, stuffing thick fists into some hidden folds in his robes. "Vormav, let her calm down. Once she's had some time to think, she won't refuse our help."

Vormav's lips compressed into a thin line, but after a moment he nodded. "Of course. You're right."

Without another word the Cardinal turned and began shuffling back towards the door. Vormav followed and spoke over his shoulder. "Let's go, Delita!"

Frowning, Delita spun on his heel and trotted after the other man, but something tugged at his awareness, a feeling as old as time, the sensation of being watched. Near the door he slowed, then turned half-around.

Ovelia was staring after him, he saw, eyebrows raised, shoulders slumped, posture wilted. Lines of tension around her mouth, her glistening eyes, suggested she was doing her best not to collapse into tears. Her gaze clung to him as a drowning woman would to a floating chunk of wood, and she said nothing, only stared.

Delita stared back. He could read her like a book; she wanted desperately to believe that her captors were human, that they were men with something like hearts in their chests. It would give her something to rely on, the belief that she wasn't in a totally stark and merciless position, one governed only by the logic of aspiring empire. She was a lost child in a foreign world. It still pained him, having to threaten her, and though it would hurt his position to apologize, the desperate fear in her eyes tugged at the levers that moved his heart.

Eventually he offered a slow nod, maintaining eye contact. She continued to stare at him, owlishly, but some of the tightness disappeared from her face.

Without speaking he turned and strode out of the chamber, locking the door shut behind him, and hurried to catch up to Vormav. There was much to do yet.

Agrias stared thoughtfully at the north gate of Lionel Castle as they approached it. A night's sleep, a little water to wash the worst of travel and battle from their clothes, and everyone was as presentable as they'd need to be to speak with the Cardinal. Or fight his people. Whichever turned out to be the case.

Fight him. This is insane. Ramza was right, though; it did make a rash sort of sense, just walking right in there and seeking an audience with a man who might well be an enemy. Certainly it was a better option than returning to Lesalia empty-handed and asking for another mission. Hey, sorry about the whole Ovelia thing. There someone else you want me to guard?

As she walked, a feather-light mist tickled her face, her eyes. It wasn't raining hard enough to make anything wetter than it already was, but nothing would get dry. As it had for the past few days, water beaded on the vegetation all around, serving somehow to make the grass an even brighter green that it would have been in sunlight. Above, the sky was nothing but a fuzzy shell of grey.

With only two hundred paces of open road remaining before the blocky gates, she sighed and poked Ramza's shoulder. "I know you think the Cardinal will grant us an audience, but I have to say I'm not convinced."

The sellsword shifted without tearing his honey-brown eyes from the gate ahead. "Between you and me, we have enough name recognition to get in."

Agrias opened her mouth, then closed it again with a frown. After a moment she grunted, eyeing him sideways. "Why? I'm St. Konoe; what are you?"

Ramza shuffled along without a reply for a few more steps before slowing to a halt in the muddy road. A strange expression, halfway between confusion and thought, crossed his features as he turned to face her, dark eyes unreadable. Eventually his lips twisted. "I'm a Beoulve."

She blinked. "A Be... wait. As in the Beoluve family?"

He nodded. Off to one side, Alicia and Lavian stared at him, hard, but the other mercenaries simply watched on with vague curiosity. They'd known before, then. Of course.

Agrias sighed again. "Alright, fine. So we have a Beoulve and one of the Princess's bodyguards. I'm not sure if that makes us more or less likely to get an audience with the Cardinal."

Ramza shrugged. "Who cares? Our only other option is hacking our way in there and interrogating him."

"Which it might come to anyway," she murmured, turning and heading towards the gates again. A Beoulve. "You... must have been trying to escape your name, then. Why change that now?"

"We need to get in there." His voice was soft, as usual, as though speaking above a whisper was simply too much effort. "She needs us." His boots squished through the mud beside her own with every step.

"Yeah. Fair enough." Agrias shook her head helplessly as they continued their way through the misting rain.

In short moments they reached the gate and walked right through, into the city. At an hour past daybreak, the place was already as busy as any other city she'd ever seen, a bustling maze of stone-paved streets, noisy, pushing crowds and a mix of scents combining to wrinkle one's nose. If the rain deterred any of the locals from their business, she saw no sign of it.

It took some time, perhaps a quarter-hour, to elbow through the masses to the gate of the keep proper, a gaping hole in the moss-fuzzed wall with another steel portcullis for teeth. Before it a half-dozen guards stood at attention, crisply-clad in the red-and-white of Lionel, fingering their weapons as they eyed Agrias and her companions with vague suspicion.

She nodded and stepped forward before they could send her off somewhere. "I'm Agrias Oaks of the Lesalia St. Konoe," she began, staring without blinking at the oldest-looking fellow, "and this is Ramza Beoulve, of Igros. We seek to speak with the Cardinal on a matter of urgency."

The soldier's eyebrows climbed at this, and he exchanged a glance with a shorter man next to him. After a moment the second nodded seriously. "Wait here, if you would. We will inform the Cardinal."

Ovelia sat in the depths, alone.

Hands tucked under her arms against the dank chill, she sat curled into a ball in the corner, staring with unfocused eyes at the jittering shadow her plate of uneaten food cast along the slimy floor. The lamp was running low on oil, making the flame flicker and the shadow dance, but it was motion and as such it drew her fuzzy attention. She'd been watching the shadow so long it seemed almost... more real than the thing casting it. More familiar, at least.

She hadn't slept well, if at all. In a way it was hard to tell; hours blurred together in this place, and if she had any dreams, they were dreams of sitting in a damp cell. Weariness tugged at her eyelids, a gentle but insistent prompting, but sleeping would mean shifting positions, which would make her cold again.

In truth, some objective part of her mind could understand why she was here. Historically in Ivalice, imprisoning political enemies, or even dangerous allies, was hardly uncommon, and while there was nothing saying Draclau had to keep her in a dank underground cell, things could have been much worse.

They want me to be the queen. But that didn't make sense. There was already both a king and a queen. Though of course Omdolia's health always made his future uncertain, Ruvelia was still young enough to expect a long reign ahead of her. Unless they mean to... no, but how could they? They'd never... unless.... She frowned momentarily before letting the expression fade. She was too tired to think straight, and didn't know enough in any case, about either the situation in general, or her captors specifically.

She could still hardly believe a man of the cloth was dabbling so in politics, that someone in Glabados Church wanted to manipulate the growth of the royal family tree, maybe prune a few branches. Those keeping her hadn't identified themselves openly, at least not their allegiance or aims, but it was hard not to notice some things. Draclau, of course, was a cardinal. Vormav... she thought he was a Shrine Knight, or maybe one of those Knight Blades. But both were Church men. And Delita was... she wasn't entire sure what he was. Clearly working for the Church, at least, if not actively a member of it. He looked like a Nanten officer, though why he would be in Lionel, conspiring with the Church... none of it made any sense.

But then, he seemed different from the others. She couldn't put her finger on it, exactly, but Delita was just... made of a different sort of metal than the Church men, perhaps. He was obviously a hard man, a strong man, but also possibly... a good one? Or am I just seeing what I want to?

She gave her lips a brief twist. It seemed doubtful she had much choice in the matter, no matter what Draclau said, but if she chose to accept their 'help'... she would miss Agrias. The Holy Knight, while sometimes a little direct, even intimidating, was at least approachable. Trustworthy. Sort of like Simon. Although... could she still guard me, afterwards? Is she enemies with Lionel now, or the Nanten or whomever? Or could she just stay with me without any problems? Again drowsiness fogged her reasoning, but there was also the simple problem that she just didn't know enough about the world to make decisions about it. She'd been watching shadows for most of her life now. Never the things actually doing things, actually blocking the sunlight in the first place, just their shadows on peaceful monastery walls, in dusty old books.

A metallic rattle drew her eyes to the door. A moment later, something clunked, and then the door squeaked open to admit Delita, armored, cloaked and intent like the portrait of some great general.

As he closed the door and strode in her direction, she lowered her eyes. Air stirred in the cell, bringing faint goosebumps to her arms.

"You still haven't eaten." His voice betrayed none of the displeasure he likely felt.

Ovelia shook her head but didn't answer. The emptiness in her stomach was little more than a queasy irritant.

Delita waited before speaking again. "So. Have you made up your mind yet? Will you accept our help?"

Despite herself she shifted, glancing to the side, away from the flickering lamp. Simon had been gently but firmly against superstition of all types, but some remained tucked away in her mind from... somewhere, sometime long ago. The breath of a ghost wouldn't fog a mirror. If you slept with a cat on your chest, it could steal your soul during the night. An unnatural creature in disguise would betray its nature through its shadow.

Delita's shadow twitched and jumped just like a shadow should, and it looked just like the man casting it, if distorted by distance and angles. Of course it does, she sighed. That's what shadows do. It was absurd, thinking so, silly and childish, but nevertheless something inside her relaxed.

Shifting her gaze to the man himself, she stared into eyes a shade darker than her own... and found her breath catching. Though he was just standing there without expression, there was something about him, something... the force of his personality, she decided. It filled the room. Flowed out from him like an invisible force, threatening to slam her back against the wall.

With effort she managed to tear her eyes from his. Who's less scary? Him or Ramza? She swallowed, staring again at the shadow of her food. "What... what do you want?"

"I told you," he murmured, completely at ease. "I just want to put you on the throne."

Ovelia compressed her lips, glancing back up at the man. "I just... who are you with? Who are you?"

Delita blinked; she had the impression he was somehow taken aback, though his face didn't show it. His brow furrowed, a noble and pensive expression, and from time to time his mouth twitched as though he were struggling not to say something. Eventually his eyes tightened, boring into her own. "I don't want you to be anybody's puppet," he answered quietly. "Let's just leave it at that."

Ovelia nodded weakly, trapped by his gaze. It filled up her vision, drowned out the rest of the room, even his own person, as though he spoke not as a representative of the Church or the Nanten, but as a man. "If... if I... accepted your help... what would happen?"

"We'd leave here," he answered without hesitation, advancing a step closer. "Go to Zeltennia. Goltana is your ally; he has his own way of doing things but he wants you on the throne, just like you and I do. He'll take Ruvelia out of the picture without even killing her, and then that's it. Everything's ready for you."

She licked her lips. "But... Larg wouldn't allow that."

"Of course not." He spoke intently now, fiercely, though his voice remained low; dark eyes seized her and gripped her, like fists. "You're a gem, Ovelia. A precious diamond like no other. No matter what you do, men will kill each other in countless thousands trying to get their hands on you, trying to control you. Don't you think the best course of action is to choose your own fate? Claim the throne as quickly as you can to keep the inevitable bloodshed to a minimum?"

It makes sense. She swallowed. I just want to help Ivalice, and this... maybe he's right. "Would... would Draclau come to Zeltennia? Vormav?"

Delita shook his head once. "Draclau has duties here, and Vormav is too busy to stay in one place for more than a week or two. You'd never have to see either of them again."

"Okay." Something fluttered in her stomach, a thrill of... fear? Excitement? "Let's do it. I'll help you."

Her captor quirked a lopsided grin. "Good. I was hoping you'd say that, actually. Turns out there's a... situation. We need to leave right away for Zeltennia."

"A situation?" She chewed a lip, suddenly uncertain.

"Oh, don't worry." He waved a carefree hand. "Just someone trying to storm the castle."

"Storm it?" she repeated, startled. "Who?"

Delita's smile grew fond. "An old friend of mine."

Ramza followed a soft-spoken priest called de Verca through the castle. The man walked slowly, sedately, hands folded behind his back as though he were perpetually in deep contemplation of God's will. It was all Ramza could do not to stride past him and find his own way to the Cardinal's office.

Agrias walked beside him, pale face cool and unruffled despite whatever worries she might be harboring. Behind her trooped the rest of their companions, Alicia and Lavian, Jasmine and Vector and Knox, all clinking along in armor, bristling with weapons.

It was strange, to be sure, that Draclau was apparently planning to meet all of them in the privacy of his office, without concern for his own safety. Was he unworried because his will was good and there'd be no need for more aggressive questions on their part? Or was it going to be another trap? Maybe with someone a little more skilled than Gafgarion? The Cardinal had fought in the war; surely, if he wanted to, he could pull up some old friends to cause some damage.

Ramza compressed his lips and discarded his doubts. Whatever happened, either he'd get what he wanted or he'd die. In neither case would he have to worry.

Somewhere near the top of the keep de Verca finally shuffled to a sage halt, then gestured at a solid oak door. A plain brown monastic goatee covered his lips and chin, but it was as neatly-trimmed and cared-for as any noble might wear. "The Cardinal's office, if you please," he whispered, folding his hands once more with a practiced smoothness. "He is waiting."

Nodding curtly, Ramza pushed open the door and strode into the room, leaving the pretentious priest in the hallway. His companions followed.

Cardinal Draclau's office was... he supposed the word for it was "dark." Despite a handful of narrow windows in the walls, the place just gave off an impression of heaviness, or gravity. Perhaps a consequence of the decoration, blocky wooden boxes in the back of the room, stark grey rock forming bare and unfurnished walls. The Cardinal himself, just now rising from behind a wooden table, was no exception; he boasted humorless garments of grey and violet, and a silvery mustache and angled eyebrows gave the impression of a man vaguely displeased with something.

He nodded politely, however, as everyone filed into his chamber. "What did you want?"

Agrias spoke up before Ramza could. "Where is Ovelia?"

"She left," answered the Cardinal in a quiet rumble. "She chose our help over yours. Why?"

Ramza stepped forward. "I don't believe you. Why are you playing both sides of the war?"

Draclau lifted his eyebrows. "War?"

Ramza nodded. "Goltana against Larg. You're helping both sides. What are you doing?"

"I see no war," countered the holy man slowly. "I see only a political struggle. The Church is simply attempting to stay neutral."

"Usually neutrality means not participating," noted Ramza tightly. "Not getting involved with every possible side."

Draclau shrugged heavy shoulders. "I don't have time for this. I'll ask you again: what do you want?"

Ramza hesitated, catching Agrias' eye, and the Holy Knight nodded. "I'm of St. Konoe," she explained coolly. "My loyalty is to the royal family. If I suspect that anyone, even a member of the clergy, is an active menace to the Princess, it is my duty to investigate... and neutralize that menace, if need be."

The Cardinal clutched his stomach and chuckled, shaking his head like someone's grandfather amused at the antics of children. "Well, now. Are you saying I'm a threat to the Princess?"

Agrias met the man's gaze without blinking. "Nanten attacked me to kidnap her, then brought her into your castle. Also in your castle was a man who attacked my companions. I think it's certainly appropriate for me to question your motives."

"Where does Bart Company fit in?" demanded Ramza as soon as she finished speaking. "You're supposed to be upholding the law in Lionel, but they're openly criminal. Why do you do nothing? Are you actually helping them? Did you have Mustadio targeted?"

Draclau shook his head again as the last of his laughter faded into sporadic chuckles. "So snappy," he murmured. "So quick to judge. I have no idea what you're talking about, young Beoulve. I'd advise you to guard your tongue more closely."

Ramza blinked. He's right. I can't just fly off the handle like that. But then again, he didn't answer me.

"His question is a valid one," pointed out Agrias carefully. "Your men should be trying to stop Bart Company's smuggling, at the very least, as it affects your own income. But you do nothing, and they flourish. Why is that?"

The Cardinal sighed, a weary gesture, like the petty details of politics were too much for an old man of God to keep track of. "I'm afraid I can't help you, Holy Knight. You will have to seek your answers elsewhere."

Ramza frowned, sharing another sidelong glance with Agrias. In truth, he'd expected this, for Draclau to take the path of least resistance, neither opposing nor helping. As such, they had a backup plan. A bad one, to be sure, but a plan nonetheless.

"Is it the stone?" wondered Agrias, shifting her attention back to the Cardinal.

Draclau paused. "Stone?"

"The Zodiac Stone. Taurus." Agrias folded arms over her chest. "We have it."

Draclau's dark eyes glittered with something, some hidden emotion, but whatever it was, Ramza couldn't read it. After a moment the holy man tilted his head. "As relics of St. Ajora, the Zodiac Stones are rightfully property of Glabados Church."

Ramza eyed his companion, then Draclau. "If you tell us what you know, we'll give it to you." Beside him, Agrias' eyes went wide in startlement but she said nothing. That hadn't been part of the plan.

The Cardinal's eyes, in contrast, narrowed. Shortly he nodded. "Very well. Let's see your stone. Put it on the table."

Agrias hesitated only briefly before doing as he asked. Taurus glittered like amber in the weak light from the windows.

Draclau stared at the stone, rubbing his hands slowly together, and when he began to speak his eyes didn't move. "You are, of course, correct. The boy stole our stone. I tasked Bart Company with retrieving it for me and so far they've bungled the matter." As he spoke, he reached into his robes and shortly pulled out another stone, a red one, which glittered just like the first. "Ovelia doesn't fit into it at all except as a means to strengthen Goltana's claim to the throne, to put him on a level with Larg, so that they'll start a war. The resulting destruction will leave no man standing... except the Church. And who better to run things? Even people who don't hate the aristocracy are tired of them; you should thank me for displacing them. Everybody wins."

Agrias swallowed. Her face was hard, chiseled ice. "And Ovelia?"

"A casualty," dismissed the Cardinal, staring into his own stone. "Just one of many. No one will miss her."

Ramza pondered this for a moment, then drew his blade. "What do the stones even do? Why do you want them?"

A corner of Draclau's lips twitched in a minimal smile as he eyed the weapon. "You want to see? Fine." Ruby light flashed, then began to swirl around him.

Ramza backed off, baffled, and watched as the Cardinal used the stone to... suck energy into himself, it seemed. Along with wisps of blood-colored light came the distended forms what looked almost like spirits, but all too soon something exploded. Ramza threw up an arm to protect his face, his eyes.

When he could see again, Draclau was gone. In his place stood something dead. Bloated, pale skin, dark and sunken eyes, a belly sewn grotesquely together... and an inhuman grin.

"Ha!" laughed the demon; the sound shook the walls in the office. "Surprised, are you? Didn't see that coming, I suppose. Now. Scream, so I can enjoy killing you!"

This is absurd. Ramza bared his teeth and rushed the thing that had been Draclau. Is that what the stones do? His sword sunk easily into puffy monstrous flesh, and the black blood spraying from the wound made his sword smoke. Are they 'holy' at all, or is that just a misnomer? Light flashed, blinding him, as Agrias unleashed an attack on the demon; at the same time Knox hacked into one of its arms. Does the Church even know about them? About what they do? One swipe of an arm like a tree trunk, and he flew, losing his grip on the sword. There's no way Draclau could have kept that to himself. They know. Jasmine's wavy face in front of his eyes, smiling, murmuring something; his own blood-streaked hand pushing her out of the way so he could return to the fight.

If they know, and he's still in his position, they're part of it. Another Crush Punch through Draclau; a slash from Vector's dagger. At its core, then, the Church is as evil as this thing in front of me. A surge of ruby magical power, and Alicia went down, coughing up blood; Agrias staggered but remained on her feet. They're evil. They're demons. Lavian crashed into the table, splitting it under her armored weight. Demons who don't care. Like nobody but me cared about Alma. A scream, a slash; more blood in his face, like burning pitch.

Abruptly Draclau froze and howled. Crimson lightning arced out from him into a sphere of uncontrolled power.

Then he exploded.

When his head stopped ringing, Ramza picked himself off the rubble-strewn floor, coughing, and examined the situation. Everyone but Vector was still alive, and Jasmine was tending to him already, drawing him back through to the right side of the veil. In place of the demon, the red Zodiac stone now lay on the stone floor. Agrias sat slumped a few paces away from the thing, staring at it, legs sprawled before her, and everyone else was tending to their own injuries. Someone had already retrieved Taurus.

Swallowing painfully, Ramza trotted over to the Holy Knight and frowned at her for a moment before squatting to retrieve the red stone. A familiar symbol had been etched into it somehow. Scorpio, huh?

Agrias followed his motion, blue eyes wide, face vacant. Then she grimaced and turned away. "We killed a Cardinal," she whispered.

"Yeah." Pocketing the stone, Ramza planted hands on his knees and stood upright. "Get up. We have to go."

"Go. Right." Shaking her head, Agrias clambered to her feet and glance around.

Ramza did likewise, lips thinned. "Is everyone ready to move? I don't think we'll--"

The door slammed open, interrupting him. In the doorway stood a grim-faced Lionel soldier, sword drawn, with several more men visible behind him, filling up the hallway. "What's going on in here?" he demanded. "What are...."

Trailing off, the fellow took visible note of everyone's injured conditions, the damage to the room as a whole, and the absence of the Cardinal inside it. Then his face went cold. "Everyone, put away your weapons," he instructed quietly, leveling his own blade at the room in general. "You need to be detained for questioning."

Sighing, Ramza obeyed, aware of everyone else doing the same, if with some measure of muttering and a few calculating glances towards the guards. "One thing first, though," he began, fishing Scorpio from his pockets. After shifting the stone to his shield hand he stepped forward, showing the thing to the guard captain. "Have you seen this?"

The soldier gave him a hard stare, then shifted his attention to the Zodiac stone. Then his jaw dropped; it must have been rare for him to see fist-sized rubies. The sword pointed at the rest of the room wavered slightly, forgotten.

While the man was distracted, Ramza drew his own weapon and slid forward, striking with a quick upwards slash, not at the soldier, but at his sword. The blade shattered into at least a dozen flying pieces, but Ramza didn't stop moving until he was behind the captain, with his sword against the fellow's neck. Hastily tossing Scorpio to Lavian, who jerked to catch it, he gripped the soldier's shoulder and spoke in a measured tone, addressing the guards still in the hallway. "Weapons on the floor," he commanded. "Or else your officer dies, and the Cardinal's gem gets smashed on the wall. Now."

The Lionel men hesitated, glancing to their leader, who raised one hand to gesture stiffly floorward. The other soldiers reluctantly obeyed, laying their swords on the floor, faces blank.

"What's going to happen now," continued Ramza, tightening his grip on the captain, "is that we're going to leave here. You're not going to question us, because I guarantee you wouldn't believe what we told you anyway. Instead we're going to take it nice and easy, and if everything goes well, we'll not only leave this fellow here alive, but we'll give you the gem, too."

Lavian swallowed, clutching Scorpio. "Ramza, are you sure...?"

"Shut up," he snapped at her, shifting his head minutely in her direction so as not to lose sight of the men in the hallway. At the same time, however, he spared her a wink with his far eye; with luck the Lionel types wouldn't be able to see it. It would have to be enough, silly as it was.

After a moment Lavian nodded. Watery blue eyes regarded the soldiers without fear and she held the stone at head level, easily visible without being far enough away to risk someone's foolhardy attempt to grab it. All around, Agrias and everyone else hefted their weapons, flowing out into the hallway and keeping menacing eyes on the other soldiers.

As they started edging down the hallway, one of the Lionel men cleared his throat. "But... the Cardinal...."

"...was dead before we got here," finished Ramza flatly. At least, he assumed that to be the case; whatever demon had been inhabiting his body probably hadn't been kind in taking it over. "Our injuries are the result of an unrelated matter, and we have no issue with anyone here. Do you understand?" One shuffling step after another, edging down the hallway with the captain held hostage and Lavian behind him.

The soldier who'd spoken scowled at this. With one knot of gold around his left arm, he looked to be a junior officer of some sort. "Then why can't you stay and explain what happened? If you're innocent, you'll--"

"I said we're leaving," interrupted Ramza. Another step down the corridor, towards a stairway. "You'd do the same in my position."

The officer scowled, if anything, more deeply at this, but at least he didn't bother to argue further. None of the others said anything either.

Ramza didn't relax, however, didn't loosen his grip on the captain. Soon Agrias flowed up beside him and leveled her blade at the man, extra insurance for the good behavior of the other soldiers. Not that they could do much, with their swords still on the ground back by the late Cardinal's office, but desperate people could get stupid in a hurry.

Long moments later they reached the intersection, still shadowed by the weaponless Lionel soldiers. Another group rushed up to join the first there, from down another hallway, but there they hovered, apparently unwilling to attack while the others stood peacefully by. A handful of wizards and priests showed up a moment later and did the same, glancing helplessly about for someone of higher rank, but apparently finding none higher than the officer in his grasp.

By the time they reached the gate from the keep proper to the city, some thirty people crowded the halls, edging along with him. He'd begun to move a little faster, shuffling rather than inching, when the guards continued to stay their hands, but nevertheless, to an outside observer it would probably look ridiculous. Everyone involved, however, was deadly serious.

At the gate an idea stopped him. "Chocobos."

The junior officer, a sour-faced man with a scar down one cheek, frowned. "What about chocobos?"

"We need some. One for each person, at the city's western gate. By the time we get there."

A few heads in the crowd turned to glance at one another in confusion. Soft rain misted in through the gate, bringing with it the scent of damp stone.

Ramza bared his teeth. "I said, get us chocobos." His arm tensed; the captain in his grip stiffened.

"Okay," conceded the junior officer, holding hands up defensively. "Okay. Jared, go tell the stables. Seven birds." A younger fellow, almost a boy, nodded quickly and ran off, into the castle.

"They're going to follow you anyway," warned the captain tightly, moving only his lips to speak. "You know that, don't you?"

Ramza shrugged, tugging the man through the open gateway, into the mass of the city circling the keep. Everyone else followed, a tense knot of armored individuals, not to mention Lavian holding the Zodiac Stone in plain view. "Don't care."

As they advanced through the city of Lionel, Ramza moved as fast as possible while still keeping the captain under control, and keeping an eye on everyone else. Which meant he took a tense stroll through the streets, surrounded by soldiers and onlookers. The crowd of spectators grew as locals drifted over in curiosity to examine this strange scene, and before long there were dozens of people, maybe a hundred, milling about and following along, most pointing fingers and exchanging excited whispers. Some doubtless had ideas about better things to do with the glittering stone Lavian was holding skyward, but with ranks of armed guards in the way, no one could do much about it, and the soldiers weren't about to attack a man with a blade to the throat of the ranking officer present.

Ramza shook his head. By nightfall his face would be staring from every street corner, probably under the word "Heretic" and above some sizable figure in gil. Hopefully it'll just be me, and everyone else is still fine. Maybe me and Lavian. Agrias would have some explaining to do, though, once her superiors caught wind of this.

When they reached the gate, there were indeed seven chocobos waiting there, each tended to by a liveried stableboy, most of whom stared in open-mouthed wonder at the approaching spectacle. As they drew near, Ramza jerked a nod at one of his companions and spoke in a low voice. "Vector, check them out. Make sure they're not weak or lame." The man nodded and jogged over to the birds.

Turning instead to the junior officer, Ramza nodded past him, at everyone else. "Tell them to back off, at least thirty paces. Once all my friends are mounted, you'll get the stone and this fellow here." Rain continued to breathe down from the grey sky, keeping the city's mud-slicked paving stones wet.

The officer gave his mouth a displeased twist but didn't argue. Instead he turned around, waving both arms at everyone else, gesturing them back. "Everyone, give us some space! Move it, now!" The crowd of soldiers and spellcasters, over a hundred, muttered vaguely but shuffled to do as he asked. Slowly an open space grew in the street.

"Ramza, they're fine," reported a breathy Vector, appearing nearby. "Saddled and bridled and everything."

"Good. Everyone, get mounted." Ramza didn't look at his friends, only listened to their silent obedience, as he kept his eyes pinned on the junior officer, who simply stared back at him.

When he was the only one not yet on a bird, he glanced back, at the city's open gate, then tugged the captain back through it. "You," he instructed at the only remaining soldier. "Come with me. After we're outside the walls, I want the gate closed with you on the outside. I don't want to have your army of friends chasing after me right away when I'm leaving."

The officer scowled. "There's a limit to how much I'll negotiate with--"

"Do it or I'll kill you both."

The man scowled at this, then sighed. "Fine." Cupping hands to his mouth, he craned his neck to peer up the moss-marbled height of the wall. "Ho, the tower! Once I'm outside with them, lower the gate!"

Silence answered for a moment, but eventually a man's voice floated down. "Yes, sir!"

Nodding curtly, Ramza backpedaled with his hostage, stepping to some twenty paces outside the city. Then he spared another glance at his companions, gauging everyone's positions. Lavian and Agrias were the closest, the former still holding Scorpio and the latter clutching the reins of Ramza's empty mount in one gauntleted fist. The city gate rumbled and creaked its way towards the ground.

Okay. We're ready. Giving the captain a quick shove, into the junior officer, Ramza spun and hopped to his saddle. "Lavian, go! Everyone go!" Suiting actions to words, he heeled the bird forward, racing away from Lionel, into the hills. Angry shouts from the two soldiers followed him, fading quickly into distance.

For four hours they raced without even bothering to speak, flying through the miles, pounding chocobo claws into muddy ground over green and rolling hills. Only then, near the edge of a swamp, did he slow and frown back over his shoulder, but nobody was following them. Not in sight, anyway. Nothing but drizzle and hills.

Some of the others seemed to notice this and slowed as well. Agrias edged her mount closer to his own. "We have maybe a half-hour of daylight left. Think it's worth camping out yet, or do you want to try to get into the swamp?"

He eyed her sideways, surprised at the question. "May as well camp here. If they come for us, we can scatter into the swamp anyway." A wall of trees rose about a hundred paces west, some leafless and skeletal, some green, all gnarled. The Lionel men, if any came, would have difficulty navigating through step-like tree roots and waterlogged ground while keeping their prey in sight.

At his words, everyone slowed almost as one to a trot, then slid out of saddles to wet ground. Ramza did so as well, pausing to knuckle his back with a grimace; he was a fair rider, but running that hard for that long wasn't good for anyone. "Vector, Jasmine," he called. "Check the birds, if you would. Some might have strained something during the race here."

Jasmine smiled, and Vector simply nodded. As they began tending to the chocobos, Agrias' low voice floated through the rain. "Girls, set up the camp for now. I'll help in a moment."

Something in her voice caught Ramza's attention and he paused in the act of handing his reins to Jasmine. Turning to the Holy Knight, he watched as she strode briskly to meet him, long legs swishing through wet grass.

"I kind of figured you'd kill that guy," she began, nodding at him. "The captain."

"What?" He blinked. "Why would I do that?"

A corner of her lips quirked. "You're not... a gentle fellow, I've noticed. He was an enemy and you left him standing."

He glared at the woman for a moment. "So? You had your sword drawn on him too, and you didn't do anything."

"True," she shrugged; armored plates clinked together with the motion. "It was just a question, Ramza."

He continued to scowl at her for a moment, jaws tense, before finally glancing off to one side, to where the rest of the group was busy setting things up for the night. "Who cares? We have better things to worry about right now."

"Yeah." She shook her head slowly, following his gaze. "We'll... talk more later, I think. I'm tired and hungry."

"Yeah."

"We're screwed."

Agrias paused in the act of chewing a strip of salted beef and frowned at Alicia. "How so?"

The redhead brushed water from her face, then fixed Agrias with a hard brown-eyed stare. "Do you think anyone in Lesalia is going to believe that Cardinal Draclau turned into a demon and exploded?"

"Probably not." Swallowing the mouthful of food, she glanced over at Ramza and his people seated in a silent circle a few paces away. In the cloudy twilight, everything beyond them was little more than shadows and mist. "But there were no other witnesses."

"Except for the hundreds of people who saw us steal a Zodiac Stone and seven chocobos," countered the younger woman dryly. "That might raise a few eyebrows too, don't you think?" Lavian grunted into her waterskin but said nothing.

Agrias shrugged. "I suppose so. The minute Draclau turned into that thing, we were all renegades anyway. Or were either if you planning to keep on with St. Konoe anyway, knowing that the Church teaching you sword skills is also the stomping ground of demons?"

Alicia blinked, then glanced sideways at Lavian, who shook her head. After a moment Alicia sighed, slumping. "No. You're right."

Lavian frowned delicately. "Are you going to teach us instead, then?"

"I can," allowed Agrias with a matching frown. "I'm... probably not the best teacher, but... yeah. It'll probably be a couple of years before you can do what I can, though."

The girl waved this caveat away. "Yeah, we know."

Alicia poked at the flattened grass under her folded legs. "What about Ovelia?"

Agrias rubbed a tired hand over her face. "Sounds like she's on her way to Zeltennia. I doubt Draclau was lying about that, at least. But... the Nanten are based there, and they aren't likely to be too friendly with us after we've fought them twice. And even if they don't care, St. Konoe will, since we're wanted now. I think if we show up in Zeltennia, our old 'friends' will whisk us away and no one will ever see us again. If our enemies don't do it first."

Lavian grimaced; doubtless she knew this was true. Alicia, however, scowled. "So you're saying we should just abandon her?"

Agrias fixed the younger woman with a level stare. "What would you do differently? You're the one who pointed out that we were screwed in the first place."

Alicia blinked, then made a sour face and started ripping stalks of grass from the ground. "Yeah," she whispered. "I was hoping you'd tell me I was wrong, though."

Silence descended for long moments until Lavian shifted. "So... what now?"

Agrias gazed thoughtfully at the other woman, then turned to face the rest of the party. "Hey, Ramza. Got a moment?"

The mercenary paused in the act of sharpening his sword and glanced up at her, honey eyes wide and empty. After a moment he nodded, tucking his whetstone and sword away, then rose and trotted the few paces separating them. "What?"

"Have a seat," she advised, gesturing at the ground. The girls scooted aside to give him room.

He obeyed silently, then fixed her with another stare. "What?"

She paused, lips pursed, choosing which matter to address first. "You broke your word earlier today. You told the Cardinal you'd give him the stone but then you attacked him."

Ramza's face tightened. "No, he attacked us."

"Well... true, but you drew your sword on him while we were still talking."

He shrugged. "He was going to attack us anyway. Did you really think he was going to tell us all of that and then let us walk away? And besides, you did give him the stone. You put it on the table, and then we killed him and took it back."

Agrias sighed. "Alright, fine. I'll give you that one. But you also broke your word to the guard captain. You told him you'd give him the other stone, Scorpio."

Ramza blinked, but his expression remained unreadable. "Did you really think it was a good idea to give away a Zodiac Stone? It got us out of there alive, didn't it?"

She scowled. "That's not the... look, it may have been useful, even necessary, but a necessary evil is still an evil. You can't lose sight of that. Try to think of a better way next time."

He gazed at her for a moment, forehead wrinkling in thought, but finally he glanced away and deflated. "You're right. I never used to... you're right."

"Don't worry about it." She shifted, adjusting her sword in its scabbard lying along the wet ground. "Now. What do you plan to do now? You wanted to do something about Mustadio's father, I recall."

"Yeah." He stared at her again, intently, without humor. "Bart Company probably still has him, and I doubt they've moved him out of Goug. Now that Draclau's settled, I'm going to head that way and fix that, too. You're welcome to come along if you want."

Agrias fingered the edge of her shield, thinking. The metal was cold, beaded with moisture. "What of the Church? In addition to the Hokuten and Nanten, you've made an enemy out of them, too."

"No." Ramza's eyes narrowed, and one gloved fist clenched. "They've made enemies of us."

"Well, call it what you will," she continued, "but every major force in Ivalice is probably after you now. I doubt the Church will send someone here to take you, Scorpio or no; instead they'll probably just put a bounty on your head and include a reward for bringing the stone back. So the only group around here not trying to kill you now is Bart Company, and you're about to change that."

"That's right." He shrugged, scratching an itch on his cheek. "But that's what I'm going to do. Are you going to come along, or are you going after Ovelia?"

She hesitated, glancing at her subordinates, but Lavian only smiled back while Alicia offered a slight nod. "We'll come along," she answered. "We got Taurus from Mustadio, and while I'm not sure that giving it back to his father is the right move, with Bart Company and everything, the least we can do is tell the guy what happened to his son."

"Okay. Good." He climbed to his feet again and turned to go.

Agrias caught his wrist before he could leave, then released it. "What of your family? You're a Beoulve."

He paused, mulling this over, before nodding. "Good point. We should take them out too."

"What? No, that's...." She gave her head a quick shake. "No, what I meant was, what is your situation with them? Do you think they might be able to help us?"

His lips peeled back. "No." Straw-colored hair hung in wet disarray, clinging to his forehead, his cheeks.

"Why not?"

"I hate them," he answered quietly, staring down at her. "And they don't care about me. If Larg and Dycedarg were trying to get Ovelia, it was probably to kill her, so they're as corrupt as everyone else, and Zalbag has forsaken his right to be in the family. They are dead to me."

"O...kay," acknowledged Agrias, frowning. "I thought you had a sister, though. Right? What of her?"

Ramza's face went abruptly cold, so cold, in fact, that she reached for her sword hilt while Lavian shrank back from him. After a silent moment he turned away and strode off, away from the camp, into the darkness.

Agrias sighed, glancing again at her remaining companions. Rain misted into her face, her hands, bringing a clammy chill.

Lavian raised her eyebrows in resignation. "It's like you said, I guess. We don't have to like him."